I tried to speak to the landlord’s agent today but he wasn’t
in the office. His secretary said that she would get him to call me after 3 o’clock in order to ‘set your mind at rest.’ He
didn’t, so I’m still on tenterhooks (whatever they are.)
And it isn’t only my
mind that needs setting at rest. Others have an interest in the matter, too.
There’s Berlioz, the fretful teddy bear. He wants to know whether we’ll be
sticking together, and I can’t give him the reassurance he craves at the
moment. And then there are the little people at the bottom of the garden. Who
would talk to them they way I do?
I have a feeling that these additional concerns would carry
little weight with the landlord’s agent, so I probably won’t mention them.
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